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It's Crab Racing Season in the Caribbean

True story: in 1979, I went on a vacation with my parents and sister to the Caribbean island of St. Maarten, and our timing couldn't have been worse. The day after we landed, Hurricane Frederic began lashing the island with rain, and we spent three long, boring days playing charades in our darkened hotel room as water leaked from the ceiling. By the time the storm had passed, our vacation was over, and we made arrangements to fly back home. A rush of people doing the exact same thing, however, necessitated one more night in a hotel near the airport, and while killing time there I noticed a sign advertising crab races at a certain time and place in the hotel. My eight-year-old mind thought that nothing could be cooler than a crab race, and I insisted that we all gather to witness the spectacle. Sadly, the appointed time came and went with nary a crab in sight. The hurricane had ruined the last hope I had to have fun in St. Maarten.

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